


A Welcome Touch

by ivefoundmygoldfish (melonpanparade)



Series: Spreading Their Wings [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, M/M, Magical Realism, Mythical Beings & Creatures, dragon!strade, prince!croft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonpanparade/pseuds/ivefoundmygoldfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Mycroft feels like he befriended a sleepy cat instead of a dragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Welcome Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a standalone piece, but I recommend reading [Finding One's Place](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1895040) too, because it explains how Mycroft met Gregory, and where they went from there. In this story, Gregory has yet to reveal his larger form to Mycroft, so he resembles this (but in silver): [1](http://saiyuki.wikia.com/wiki/Hakuryuu?file=Hakuryuu_gall07.png), [2](http://saiyuki.wikia.com/wiki/Hakuryuu?file=Hakuryuu_gall03.png).

Given that Mycroft has exposure to the wide variety of animals on and around the castle grounds—domesticated (cats to hunt down the rodents), poultry and livestock (and Mycroft _does_ so enjoy a good omelette for breakfast and roast chicken for dinner), or simply wild animals—upon his first glimpse of Gregory’s small form, he knew Gregory was different. Special. There was no way Gregory could be anything else, not with those beautiful, silver scales and hair, even if he was small and shivering and wet when Mycroft found him.

The dragon has shown, on numerous occasions, that he is, indeed, a legendary creature in possession of a plethora of incredible, mind-blowing abilities—quick to recuperate, and capable of telepathic communication, to name a few. And yet, when Gregory is curled up like an overgrown cat on his favourite spot on Mycroft’s bed, sleeping peacefully, Mycroft finds it difficult to resist the urge to scratch behind his ears, or to run his fingers along his silver mane.

 

* * *

 

They’ve fallen into some kind of routine, Mycroft realises, upon arriving at his living quarters after a brief, but enjoyable excursion with Gregory. It has been several weeks since Gregory recovered, and also several weeks since Gregory has appeared to make it his personal mission to show Mycroft the countless natural wonders beyond the castle grounds. Regardless of where they go or what they see—the sweet-smelling scent of the lily of the valley from today is still fresh in his memories—the aftermath is always the same: Gregory’s wings are furled and resting on his curled body while he naps in his favourite spot, and Mycroft—Mycroft hoists himself up on the bed, stretches out his legs, and watches fondly.    

That’s where Mycroft breaks the routine, because before he can stop himself, he’s already reaching for the tuft of hair nestled between dragon ears and horns, and he scratches—a gentle, repetitive motion. The strands of hair are soft beneath his fingers; a striking difference from the cool, hard scales along Gregory’s slender, serpentine body.

_Mycroft?_

Although Gregory’s eyes remain shut, the clear voice Mycroft has become accustomed to hearing in his mind is enough to prompt Mycroft to withdraw his hand.

“Go back to sleep,” Mycroft murmurs.

_Mhmm._

Yet, Gregory doesn’t—not until he adjusts himself, leaving his favourite spot on the bed in favour of the comfort and warmth of a human side—Mycroft’s side. Mycroft observes the steady rise and fall of Gregory’s body; hears the gentle puffs accompanying each fall, and he almost believes that the dragon has fallen asleep when he hears his name spoken once more.

_Hey, Mycroft?_

“Yes, Gregory?”

_Can you do that thing again? Felt really nice._

A warm smile spreads across Mycroft’s face. He gently brushes his knuckles against the fine, silver hairs of Gregory’s cheek before reaching behind a small, soft ear.

“Of course.”


End file.
